


The Aura of Nelly Finlayson

by LilyCarmenBlack



Series: THE AURA SERIES [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auras, Hags, Hogwarts Era, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Lamia Hags, Male Hag, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Ravenclaw, Scottish Character, Witch - Freeform, physic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-30 02:09:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15086738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyCarmenBlack/pseuds/LilyCarmenBlack
Summary: Aurology was considered a misleading subject, even in the wizarding world. Although backed up with numerous amounts of research, the seeing and understanding of auras, was often taken with a pinch of salt; that was, until Nelly Finlayson starts to see things, that don't always make sense, and feel emotions that were never hers - but more than often, feel absolutely terrifying...





	The Aura of Nelly Finlayson

****

 

**Disclaimer: I only own Helen "Nelly", Hugh, Katharina "Kath, and Robert "Bertie" Finlayson, their stories, and any other character who does not belong in the Harry Potter universe. The rest belongs, and forever will do, to J K Rowling.**

* * *

**Pronunciation** **of names (and the pronunciation** **of names that are not well known in the books):**

**Nelly: n EH l ee**

**Hugh: hew guh**

**Finlayson: fin LA sun**

**Warric: warr - ick**

**Helen: HELL lun**

**Katharina: k aa th aa ree na**

**Benjy: ben gee**

* * *

**To Nelly and Hugh,**

**to jam filled rooms and faulty electricity,**

**to the Spanish Flu Pandemic and Heart Attacks,**

**to Highland lore and Cromarty values,**

**to my Finlayson Family and the Sailors who drowned in the North Sea,**

**and to the wonderful stories and names they all left behind.**

* * *

**Chapter One: The Hidden House**

The houses seemed to leer out of the ground like a line of perfectly still corpses, the once pristine windows barely hanging onto rotten beams, and ledges, that as the woman stared at the sorry excuse of a street, she wondered why her old professor had asked her to meet him at such a depressing place. Although Islington was usually a highlight against Nelly's long journey to the Institute of Magical Research, she couldn't help but curl her lip as she stared at the lonely road.

The homes, if you could call them homes, were unwelcoming in all sense, and while the disturbing ripple of death called from in-between numbers eleven and thirteen, Nelly had chosen to, not only ignore the strange feeling in her gut, but to elect that her professor had chosen to meet her outside in the pouring rain for a particularly important reason.

Grimacing, Nelly removed her glasses, and began to clean the steamed glass with the corner of her jumper. Her shoes, (which were all ready ruined thanks to her brother and a mistake with their mother's gooseberry patch), squelched as she rocked back and forwards on her heels, the umbrella above her head doing little to break the rain. She could have easily dispelled the cold wetness, but considering that she was standing in a muggle street, with muggle-onlookers (not that were many), Nelly had decided that breaking the Statue of Secrecy was not particularly on her agenda, and if it meant getting a little wet, then she would pay the price of pretending to be a muggle.

It wasn't hard, and unlike some of her wizarding friends, Nelly knew the in's and out's of being a muggle. She also knew, that if one wanted to look like a lost stranger, and not an extra from a carnival, then one would not dress in brightly lit colours, and strange articles of clothing. On the other hand, she wore a sensible, but ever so slightly prudent pair of black trousers, a warm grey blouse, and a burgundy, long sleeved jumper. Her coat, which had belonged to her elder brother before she had wilfully stolen it from him, was a deep brown and ever so warm. However, as the witch stood under the secluded outline of a green-leafed tree, she finally noticed the old man who was walking toward her.

Unlike Nelly, who was trying far to hard to look normal, the man in question was anything but. His red-silver hair fell down in back in long waves, the equally grey beard tucked under a large belt, as his robe, (a purple-star-speckled thing with the sleeves only a master wizard could pull off), fell to his feet. He smiled warmly at her as he approached, his twinkling blue eyes meeting Nelly's green as she raised an eyebrow.

She coughed, replacing her glasses on the bridge of her nose, and moved to the side to allow her old professor room under the tree, her hand clutched tightly on her bag's strap. The satchel, and the only thing that wasn't made from a muggle manufacture, held a collection of charmed-lightweight books, and a few rolls of ink-blotched parchments, but it was the wand, and its core, that was really important to the witch. Reaching into her back, Nelly touched her wand's handle, running her fingertips up and along the black wood. She'd gotten her wand from Jimmy Kiddell, a considerably less well known wandmaker, when she was eleven, and although at the time, the young girl had longed for a wand crafted by Ollivander, the ebony fifteen inch, dragon heat-string, wand served her well.

Turning slightly, Nelly faced her former headmaster, and gave him an ever so lightly amused look. He smiled back, his lips pulled into a kindly expression that didn't quite meet his eyes.

'Headmaster,' the witch breathed, nodding. 'Are you well?'

'Yes, I am, Miss Finlayson,' he said, eyes transfixed on the rain. 'I'm glad you received my letter.'

Nelly shrugged.

'I will admit, professor, that I wasn't expecting it,' she breathed, tugging at her jumper. 'There are other more important people who you could have asked. Why on earth you think hiring someone like me to join your school is beyond me.'

Professor Dumbledore gave he a curious look, his eyes thinning as he looked her over.

'On the contrary, Miss Finlayson,' the old professor assured, 'I think you are incredibly important — your research and thesis on Wizarding History during Arthurian times is impeccable, and considering that Professor Binns's teaching has been called into question, I have found myself lacking in another capable professor to teach them.'

It was as Nelly was thinking that calling Professor Binns, a "capable" teacher was a little far-fetched, and wondering where the hell Dumbledore had been for the past forty years to consider such and option, that her old Professor raised his eyebrows.

'There is, I will admit, another reason why I asked you to meet me here,' he said, looking across the street. 'What do you know of Lord Voldemort's return?'

Nelly shuddered and licked her lips.

'I know that Harry Potter said he came back,' Nelly muttered, struggling not to stutter. 'And that everyone but you and he thinks he did not.'

'And what do you think?' Dumbledore asked, his lips pulled into a tight line.

'I—I— Well, I think I agree,' Nelly breathed. 'The facts surrounding his death fourteen years ago, just don't... well... add up. Master Warric, a few of the other scholars at the collage, and myself, have always considered that the version of events that the Ministry released weren't, always, per se, accurate.'

She paused, as if wondering how offensive her next few sentences would be.

'Especially the events leading up to he-who-must-not-be-named found the Potters... The records and history just don't join up with Sirius Black being the Potter's betrayer, or their secret keeper,'

'And who do you think did it?' Dumbledore asked. 'Hypothetically speaking?'

Nelly breathed deeply, shoulders straightening as she looked her headmaster dead in the eye.

'Peter Pettigrew,'

To anyone else, Nelly was sure she would have been laughed at her, or worse, turned her into St Mungo's for a mental examination, but it was as the rain fell harder, and Dumbledore looked to the sky, that Nelly realised hat he was actually considering her opinion. She bit her lip.

'Sir?' she asked. Dumbledore smiled loosely at her.

'Do you have any evidence that this might be the case?' he asked, fixing her with his magnificent blue eyes again.

Nelly shrugged.

'Only in theory,' she admitted. 'All the information I've gathered is back at the Institute. I don't really like to carry it around, it sort of... weirds me out to be honest.'

Dumbledore hummed.

'Well,' he said to himself, 'I think that's enough evidence. What do you think, Alastor? Is she enough?'

Nelly turned, jumping so high that her head almost touched the lowers branch as Alastor Moody, ex-auror and all round paranoid genius appeared by Dumbledore's side, his famous magical eye zooming in on Nelly as if she were something dangerous.

'Writing a thesis on a supposed mass murderer's supposed innocence, does not mean that she is capable, Albus,' the man grunted, fixing both eyes on the man. 'What can she contribute to the Order?'

The Order... The phrase left a bad taste in Nelly's mouth, as it suddenly dawned on her what they were talking about. Her heart began to pound faster, her breath smoking in the cold air as she stared at the two. The Order, had to be the Order of the Phoenix, an organisation that her Uncle Benjy had died for, an origination against Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

'So he's really back then,' Nelly breathed, shaking, her hands clenched as she stared at the ground.

The two wizards conversation broke, Dumbledore's instant mutterings falling against the cold wind, as they turned to look at her. Mad-Eye's magical eye paused, his face turning sour as Dumbledore gave her a soft expression.

'I'm afraid so,' he replied. 'The Institute's Theory is correct — the Dark Lord never actually died.'

Nelly's lips curled and suddenly a cold flush ran down her spine, her anger reaching her fingertips, to the point where she had to stop herself from drawing her wand.

'Is that why you wished to hire me?' she snarled, green eyes glittering. 'Because I'm a scholar? Because I work for I.M.R?'

Dumbledore's lips tightened.

'In word, yes, but you are also Benjy Fenwick's niece, a man who was an incredibly powerful wizard.' Dumbledore said. 'A man who also worked for the Institute of Magical Research.'

'I am not my uncle's copy,' Nelly snapped. 'No matter how many times people remind me,'

'That is not the only reason why I ask you to join the Order,' Dumbledore pressed. 'There are certain...things, that I need inspecting, that only someone with your nature can do,'

Nelly's jaw snapped shut.

'So that's the real reason for you inviting me here.'

She paused, looking the two wizards up and down.

'If I do this for you,' she said. 'If I keep an eye on the children, and do whatever else you want me to do to help get rid of the Dark Lord, will you leave me alone?'

Dumbledore nodded.

'Swear it,' Nelly suddenly said, all formality leaving her voice. 'I will only agree on an unbreakable vow. History has told many who work at I.M.R, that wizards often go back on their promises.'

Mad-Eye growled deeply.

'Best take her to Headquarters,' he grunted. 'Don't wan't people nosying around — especially the muggles,'

Taking Moody's words with good graces, Dumbledore agreed, and after a small amount of persuasion, guided Nelly to in between houses eleven and thirteen. She only had to wait less then a minuet, before the ground started to rumble, brick-dust and a bits of paint falling to the floor, as the black, chipped door, to number twelve slid out of nowhere. While she was somewhat interested in how elegant the unveiling of the secret house had been, she wasn't that surprised — she had smelt the power coming form the house a mile off.

'Twelve Grimmauld Place,' she laughed, shaking her head. 'Never thought the Order would take up reticence in the Black's stronghold,'

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

'The Institute knows of the house?' he asked.

Nelly snorted.

'From what Master Warric told me, Orion Black practically bragged the house's history to him when they were in school,' she gave Dumbledore a wily look. 'Did you know that the originally Black forced a family of muggles out of this very house because they liked the view? No... Well, that's a shame...'

The door was opened, and Nelly was guided inside, the door locking itself behind her as she turned to face the corridor. Gas-lamps lit a long corridor the chandelier overhead glittering despite the dust and smell of mildew. Cobwebs criss-crossed the walls, the dark paper peeling, that Nelly almost felt sorry — almost. She couldn't help but take a step back, as a wall of darkness slammed into her, to the point where she felt like, if she let it, it would gran her by the folds of her coat and never let her go. Empty portraits lines the wall, the carpet threadbare as Nelly cautiously walked forward, a numbing headache splintering her mind with every step.

Biting her lip, the witch pressed her hand to her forehead, gently massaging the pain, as Dumbledore pushed walked ahead, setting his stride in the direction of a staircase that led down into what Nelly supposed was the kitchen. She on the other hand, paused, leaning heavily against the grey wall paper, her gut resting somewhere in the nether-regions of her uterus and the floor.

'Is it like this throughout,' Nelly breathed, nausea rippling down her spine as Mad-Eye moved in front.

For a split second, his non-magical eye seemed to soften, but then it hardened once more, his defence grumpiness snapping back up. He nodded, grunting in a way of an answer, and walked forward, staff clanging against the wood. It took Nelly a long time to reach the end of the hallway, he magic circling around her, the voices of a hundred people floating in her head, that as she walked by a large curtain covered portrait, she suddenly got the distinct memory of a woman with blonde hair, who had once run down this very hallway, screaming at her son, throwing books and hexes at his head.

By the time she managed to get down the stairs, her face was a pale grey, and Dumbledore was explain her presence to the Order. Or at least that what she thought he was say, because when she finally stumbled into the kitchen, she immediately zeroed in on the only chair. It didn't get much better as she sat down, resting her head on her forearms as breathed in the woody, oiled wood. She caught the scent of laughter, the sound of spoons being clattered, and the taste of fear, as someone unfortunately got their head sliced lean off.

It was a her head was begging to spin, her face greening with each memory, that someone touched her shoulder. Almost instantly, the horrible-skin crawling memories faded, and Nelly looked up, her eyes narrowing as she took in the worried face of her elder twin, and Hit-Wizard, Hugh. Her twin in question had the same green eyes as her, the same black hair and wicked grin. That grin was wide and broad as he stared down at her, his hearing aids twinkling in the cold light as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, hair falling down his face. Although older by a good few seconds, Nelly's bother had gathered the good-looks, and friendly attitude of their father, that if it wasn't for his eyes, and his disturbing ability to lipread, Hugh Finlayson would have been a carbon copy of their father, tanned skin and all.

'What the bloody hell are you doing here?' Nelly groaned, as her twin dumped himself next to her. 'Aren't you meant to be in Siberia?'

'Aren't you supposed to be snogging a book back at I.M.R?' Hugh joked, eyebrows raised.

Nelly glared, and flipped him off, her middle finger raised in annoyed solidarity.

'Hey,' Hugh said, eyes flicking over her. 'And why are you wearing my jacket! And Nell! You're soaking! What've you been doing? Swimming in the North Sea?'

Nelly raised an eyebrow, smile on her lips.

'Nah,' she breathed, speaking clearly and her hands moving with practice ease as she signed. 'That would be stupid — I wouldn't to that again — and that's rich coming from someone who wanted to swim to Orkney when you were five.'

He laughed, wide grin on his lips, and before Nelly could ask him how he was, Dumbledore coughed. Nelly looked up, and she suddenly realised that the Order was staring at her. She recognised some old faces, a few hardened warriors from her childhood that her Uncle was friends with. However it was the new members that really made her sad. Most, if not all, of the new members were those she went to school with; Bill Weasley, with his long hair and annoying attitude sat next to his bother, Charlie, while Nymphadora Tonks stood by the fire, hands running over the mantle as if waiting for something to break. There were a few others, some as young as eighteen, and as Nelly retuned to her brother, she realised they were all waiting for her talk.

'I'm Helen,' she said, signing for her brother's sake, a habit she picked up since he'd lost hearing when he was nine, 'Nelly Finlayson. I work for the Institute of Magical Research.'

Someone scoffed, but who, Nelly wasn't quite sure. There was a brief pause, as she looked at Dumbledore.

'If you want me to help,' she said, her grip tightening on her bother's arm as she stood up. 'Then I wish to continue the vow. Alastor, you know the spell. Professor, I require your arm,'

With the help of her brother, Nelly approached her ex-Headmaster, and after a moment's hesitation, grasped his arm. A flood of emotions suddenly exploded all around her, and she stopped herself from talking a step back, as a girl's scream filled her mind, a name, ("Ariana"), and the suddenly realisation that someone Dumbledore had deeply cared about had made a regrettable action. Licking her lips, Nelly breathed deeply, as Alastor stood up, his wand waving as he started the spell.

Gold rope spun from the auror's wand, the twine wrapping itself around Dumbledore and Nelly's wand.

'Will you, Helen Katharina Finlayson, look over any cursed historical items that the Order deems necessary?'

'Yes,' Nelly breathed, voice heavy.

'And do you, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, promise to leave Helen Finlayson alone once her task is done?'

'I do,' Dumbledore replied.

'And will you, Helen, watch over and guide the students of Hogwarts from any hard, against Lord Voldemort and his forces, by teaching them, and helping them when deemed necessary?'

'Yes,'

'And will you keep the secrets of the Order of the Phoenix from falling into the wrong hands,'

This one, was the hardest to agree to, for while Nelly knew she would never willingly tell anyone, the Cruciatus Curse was incredibly nasty. She nodded, her mouth dry, before agreeing.

'Yes,'

Alastor lowered his wand, the golden thread dispersing, as Nelly looked at her hand, desperately trying to shake the feeling of pain, fear, and loss of love, off. Reaching forward, she grasped her twin's arm, wrapping her hands tightly trough his fingers, allowing the calm, sense of tranquilly to fall. That was a weird thing about her gift, that because of certain people, and their so called "missing" traits, her power didn't work on them, which was a both a blessing and a curse.

'Is that enough for you?' Dumbledore asked.

Nelly nodded, and gave him a weak smile.

'That's all for now,'

Dumbledore smiled, and patted her arm, before pausing.

'Welcome, Nelly Finlayson, to the Order of the Phoenix.'

Once Nelly had sat down, the Order took forth it's plans. There was a hesitant discussion of retreating Harry Potter from his Muggle-relatives, a topic that was strongly brushed off by Dumbledore. Nelly on the other hand, was struggling not to throw up. Even with her brother standing next to her, the magical energy the house was throwing off was incredibly powerful — far more then the institute.

'But he's my godson,' a voice snapped, and Nelly was pulled out of her musings, as a tall, ragged looking man with long, long hair stood up.

Clean shaven, and with his hair shoulder-length Sirius Black looked a million miles away from the gaunt, screaming man who had once stared out of wanted photographs. But there was still something not quite right. Perhaps it was the slightly crazed look in his eyes, or the stink of booze in the air around him, but whatever the case, the Heir of Black was certainly a long way off from being the handsome man from Nelly's childhood.

'And I understand that,' Dumbledore said, trying to calm the man down. 'But you have to understand Sirius, that we can't just uproot Harry and bring him here without notice — the wards around his home would signal a message to the ministry, and then all hell would break loose. We need a political reason before he can come here,'

To Nelly, it sounded like Dumbledore was skirting around the question, and after a few more loud outbursts from Sirius, the Heir of Black sat back down, fuming. Next there were several long and boring discussions about Voldemort, and it wasn't until Dumbledore mentioned something about his return, that Nelly spoke up.

'Professor,' Nelly said, leaning forwards. 'You said that he-who-must-not-be-named came back through dark means, but what I want to know, is do you have any theories on how he survived.'

There was a thick pause, which Nelly took as a, yes. She sighed.

'If you looked over my notes, would that help?' she reasoned, trying to get something out of the man. 'Then maybe I can do my job.'

Her threat was subtle, as if she was reminding him of their agreement only moments before. There was another long pause, and then Dumbledore called,

'Winky, if you could come here please!'

There was a loud pop, and a second later, a watery eyed house-elf appeared by Dumbledore's side, her clothes stained and burned, the skirt and blouse destroyed beyond repair. Her large eyes peered up a the headmaster, her tomato-like nose red.

'Winky,' Dumbledore commanded. 'If you could please go to Miss Finlayson's rooms in the Institute of Magical Research, and gather her thesis papers, that would be wonderful,'

'Winky would like to know where, Miss Finlayson's rooms is?' Winky asked.

Nelly smiled gently at the house-elf.

'I'm in the Lupetwal Dorms, number seven-hundred and twenty-eight, it's in the West part of the I.M.R.'

Winky nodded, bowed, and popped off. Sirius Black gave Nelly a thin look, and leaned forward in his chair, eyes glittering.

'And what can you contribute to the Order?' the man sneered.

Nelly licked her lips, and before she could respond to the ex-convict, Hugh squeezed her tightly again, a wicked grin on his lips.

'Nell here's a natural born Physic-Aurologist,'

Nelly couldn't help but groan as everyone looked at her, the adult's eyes narrowing as they studied her face. She sighed again and picked at the threads of her jumper, and couldn't help but shudder as a hundred voices suddenly grew louder her head. Sirius Black raised his eyebrows.

'Well,' he said, looking her once over, as if she were a rather boring statue, 'that's interesting,'

There was a loud pop, and Nelly sighed in relief as the house-elf reappeared. Saved by Winky. The elf in question and returned with a large stack of papers, the parchment so high, that it was three times taller then Winky, and was bound in twine, a feathered quill resting on top. Carefully, the elf handed over the thesis and popped off. It was a little jarring to see the elf appear and disappear so quickly, and as Nelly tuned towards Dumbledore, she noticed that his eyes were raised.

'This,' she said, putting on the kitchen table, 'is all the evidence that the Institute had gathered about the Dark Lord, plus the reasons why Sirius Black didn't betray the Potters, and why Pettigrew did, along with several other long documentations on Ministry censorship and all the bullshit that sprouted out of Minister Bagnold's mouth and all the things Fudge has tried to cover up. Bring this up in a court, and you'll might just win,'

'Holy Merlin,' a voice breathed, and Nelly turned to see that Tonks was staring at the papers mouth open.

Hugh grinned.

'I told you, Nell was a bookworm,' he said, nudging her. 'She's a scholar all right, Mum say's she takes after Uncle Benjy — them being Physics and all.'

Nelly gave her twin a light tap, signalling him to shut his mouth, or she'd stick his shit to the ceiling again.

'Please read it carefully,' Nelly said, giving Dumbledore an evil eye. 'If you crease the pages, then I will make you rewrite every single page,'

'Why did you think that I didn't hand over Lily and James to Voldemort?' Sirius Black suddenly asked, and Nelly looked at him, mouth tightening.

'Why would a person, who had, for most of their life condemned the dark magic, suddenly skip into enemy territory and reveal themselves as a traitor?' she sighed, shaking her head. 'Master Warric only found out that Pettigrew might have been the murderer, years later mind you, through speaking to the man's family, and finding out that he had always had an obsession of following powerful people, which led Master Warric to find pamphlets on the Dark Lord, and for him to discover various letters addressed to someone names, "LV". I', guessing Pettigrew wasn't very imaginative when it came to code.'

Nelly shook her head.

'Anyway, Master Warric also looked at various accounts taken by muggle and wizarding reports, and realised, somehow that it hadn't been you who had blown up the street; it didn't take him long to work out what happened, and then he put his best scholars on it. I had the whole thing roughly planned out in a week. Only thing I didn't get was how Pettigrew got away.'

'He's a rat-animagus,' Black responded, and as if waiting for such a reply, the quill that was tied around the parchment jumped up and began to write. 'He disappeared once he'd blown up the street.'

Nelly grinned, as the quill settled down.

'Thanks,' she said.

'You're welcome.'

And with that, whether Sirius Black knew it or not, Nelly had just popped him onto her friend's list — a task, more difficult to get onto then to leave.

* * *

**Dear Readers,**

**For those of you wondering, where I got the names "Nelly", "Hugh" and "Finlayson", what I've done, is I've mashed together mine and my mother's ancestry to create this version of the Finlayson crew. Truth be told, it's a little weird, to see my great-gran's surname in this story but still, its pretty fun to sprinkle that familiarity throughout the prose. Nelly and Hugh, (the real Nelly and Hugh I mean), were two of my ancestors, and although Nelly was my six-times great grandmother and Hugh was the great-great uncle who I never met, it's still rather interesting, (for me at least) to choose their names for these characters. So undoing so, as you can see at the begging I've sort of also dedicated this story them: hope you won't kill me in the afterlife, Nelly Munro and Hugh Finlayson!**

**I have no idea what my actual relatives were like, (or looked like for that matter) as Nelly lived in the early 18th century and Hugh died at nineteen in 1918 from the Spanish Flu Pandemic. All I know about my family, is that they were Highlanders, spoke a mixture of Scottish Gaelic-English, came from Ross-shire, (although a few days ago I found out that one of them came from Shetland, which was freaking awesome, in my opinion, and I can literally say that I am from the North, and have no shame, as she lived in Unst, the most northernly, habitual, island in Britain), and had a rather mad obsession with jam, and electricity — that's it.**

**I also feel, that out of all my character, Nelly, (the character not my ancestor) is most like me, in the sense that I am obsessed with history, (I mean come on, I wouldn't be studying Archeology if I didn't) and also loves books. Although, unlike her, I am not a Ravenclaw — I am far to ambitious and proud for that. Slytherin all the way, kiddos, and for the record, we are not evil — we're not!**

**For those of you who don't know, Aurology, or bring an Aurologist, in the Harry Potter universe, is a job description/skill that is used to, (according to HarryPotterWikia), "sense magical phenomenon of unclear nature". This to me, not only opens a window of opportunities, but allows me to experiment with something new, which is not in the Seers, Necromancy, Werewolf category. So, enjoy, as I figure out what do with Nelly and her gift.**

**I know that this chapter was short, and sort of ended on a rather odd note, but it's a start: a start I will finish.**

**Before I end this little note, I was wondering, if Nelly is to end up with someone, who would you suggest. I would like to hear your suggestions. Or should she just do her own thing, like Canon-Charlie and obsess over books rather then boys/or girls/or both.**

**Hope you enjoyed,**

**from,**

**Lily.**


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